heya...
So if you hadn't noticed yet, my guestbook is full of interesting
JavaScript too.
That's why the word posse turns into bolded text with the Andre The
Giant has a Posse picture... among other things.
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My cat is enjoying sitting on my lap a little too much right now.
It's not a sexual thing, it's a "I'm not ever going to move even when
you stand up" thing.
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I've been listening to The Gorillaz a lot lately - which would mostly be after I get out of work and am picking Jen up after she gets out of work.
I like them a lot.
It makes me wonder though...
are they cool?
Are they a good band?
Is their music popular?
I really don't know, but I like them and am worried I just admitted to the equivalent of liking Yanni Live at the Necropolis to a bunch of punk rockers who don't like dead things...
Not that that's a reflection on you
my readers.
Hrmm.
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So whenever I go to the National Poetry Slam, I always manage to hit
someone
and that someone is always a good friend.
In 1999 the Nationals were in Chicago, my friend Dave Blank was the
coach and I was on the team.
(This was before I took over running the whole Poetry Slam here in
Providence.)
We had competed twice already and lost twice already and were certainly
not going to make the semi-finals.
So of course Dave and I decided to go out and get extremely drunk.
For some reason I always end up playing pool when I'm out drinking and
invariably winning over and
over again against the bar's resident good players.
Dave and I were partners, we were drinking a lot, and of course winning
somehow.
Well after that became boring we decided to visit my friends Ray and
Laura who were staying in a different hotel than us.
We both got in the elevator.
We stood there.
I said to Dave, "So tell me, where would it hurt the least if I were to
punch you?"
"Uhhh... the arm?"
So I hauled off and punched him in the arm as hard as I could.
For no reason
other than being drunk.
The next day he was complaining he couldn't raise his hand above his
head.
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If you search this diary on the word drunk, you'll find all sorts of
stupid embarrassing stories involving me a bottle of beer
and I honestly can't tell you why I do these things.
"You're an idiot John"
"That could be it..."
but I don't think so.
I wonder if I have a complex.
I could have pent up feelings of inadequacy...
or I just like to cause pain.
I COULD BE A SADIST!
A TALL SKINNY SADIST WHO GETS BEER MUSCLES!
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I don't know, what do you think?
Perhaps you should email him and
ask.
�
Anyway, it's time for my meds
my COLD and FLU meds
it should be obvious by now I stopped taking THAT medication long ago.
